22. Breathe
938 Words
22
Breathe
Sirens echoed in the distance. Someone must have called the police about the grate exploding, but they wouldn’t be able to help. Whoever had taken Emilia was beyond the power of the police.
“Emilia! Jacob!” Iz’s shouts carried through the crowd. “Jacob,” she gasped, grabbing his arm. “Jacob!”
“They’re gone.” Dazed, Jacob stared up and down Eighth Avenue.
“We have to get home.” Iz tried to move Jacob away from the crowd. “Jacob, we have to go home. We can’t help her here.”
Aunt Iz gripped Jacob’s arm and led him through the crowd and into a cab. She was already on the phone with Samuel. Though she said nothing that would arouse the cab driver’s suspicion, Jacob knew Samuel would understand exactly what had happened.
Emilia had been taken.
Jacob felt like he would explode sitting in that cab. Every time they stopped at a light, his chest began to constrict. He tried to breathe, but his lungs wouldn’t work properly. He dug his nails into the seat, willing the streets to clear so they could get to the house. The black town car in front of them veered suddenly to the left, as though pushed by some invisible giant. The cab driver didn’t seem to notice anything strange had happened as he sped into the vacated spot and continued to weave through the midtown traffic.
“Breathe, Jacob.” Iz put her hand on his shoulder and stared straight into his eyes, the cell phone still pressed to her ear with the other hand. “Viridesca,” she muttered, and the light in front of them turned green. “Sivexi vaiectus.” The driver did not pause again until they reached the town house.
A flurry of activity had seized the house by the time the cab finally brought Jacob and Iz to the door. Samuel paced the hall, phone pressed to his ear, speaking in a low, urgent tone. There were some other wizards Jacob didn’t know by name, but whose faces he recognized from the Council meeting earlier that day. Had it really only been that morning? It seemed like years had passed since he’d sat with Emilia in that sterile, white kitchen.
The small elderly gentleman walked swiftly to Aunt Iz and clasped her hands. “Isadora, we came as soon as we received Samuel’s call.”
A redheaded witch joined the conversation. “Did you recognize the men?”
“No,” Iz said, accepting a hug from the grey-haired black woman who had sat next to her at the meeting. “I’ve never seen those men, and they weren’t bearing any specific signs of allegiance.”
“No dragon tattoo?” the grey-haired woman asked.
“No,” Jacob said.
Samuel hung up the phone. “I’ve notified MAGI and called all our friends in the area. MAGI is sweeping the city for unusual magical activity. I’ve sent people to the Washington Bridge, Lincoln Tunnel, and the rest of the main arteries, but if they leave by water…there’s just too much area to cover.”
“Have there been any threats? Any indication?” the elderly gentleman asked, his voice quivering.
Iz shook her head. “Nothing that had anything to do with Emilia.”
“But after the Council meeting today―” The redheaded witch glanced at Jacob. “Perhaps we should speak in private.”
“No,” Jacob growled. “Whatever’s happening, I want to be involved.”
Samuel put his hand on Jacob’s shoulder, but Jacob shook it off.
“I don’t care what secrets you think you have to keep,” Jacob said. “The only thing that matters is finding Emilia, and I can help.”
He looked around at the other wizards in the hall. All of them were older than he was. All of them knew more magic than he did. But he loved Emilia, and surely that had to be worth something. If he was locked out of a room while others discussed where she could be, or what might be happening to her, he would go crazy. Jacob turned to Samuel, willing him to understand.
“He’s right.” Samuel sighed. “We’re in no place to reject help from anyone. Especially someone so invested in finding Emilia.” He turned to Iz. “We need to call Dexter. I already tried to contact Mr. Wayland, but he didn’t answer his phone or my skry.”
Iz took out her phone and handed it to Jacob. “Call Dexter. Tell him what happened, and let him know he may come help with the search. Then join us in the dining room. We need to organize. With any luck, we’ll receive a ransom demand.”
“Would that be a good thing?” Jacob asked.
“It would mean they were interested in my money and not in Emilia’s powers,” Iz said with a grim twist of her mouth. “That would be a very good thing.”
Jacob remembered what Emilia had said when they were in the pantry that morning. Humans locking wizards up. Jacob pictured Emilia in a white room. Trapped. Experimented on.
Emilia’s worst nightmare.
A sour taste flooded his mouth.
Aunt Iz led the others into the dining room, leaving Jacob staring at the cell phone in his hand.
He found the number in the phone and called. Jacob paced the hall as Dexter’s phone rang.
Ten seconds passed. Jacob wanted Dexter to answer so he could get this horrible conversation over with.
Twenty seconds.
How could he tell someone he hated the girl they both loved was in terrible danger, and that he’d been there but failed to protect her?
The ringing stopped, and Dexter’s voice spoke. You have reached the phone of Dexter Wayland. If you would like me to return your call, please leave a message at the tone. If you do not leave a message, your call will not be returned.
“Dexter, it’s Jacob. Something’s happened”―he paused, trying to find the words―“Emilia’s been taken. You should be here.”
And he hung up. There was nothing more to say.
- Writer
